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blitzwhore · 2 days ago

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Stolas just standing there and letting blitz hug him in the end is all good, right? He is just sad because of octavia and accepting that blitz is there with him right?? It's not that he regrets chosing him, right??? (I just need affirmation)

You know what? I've found myself needing reassurance about this too. So let's take a moment to look at the facts together, shall we?

(This reply turned out way longer than I expected it to 😅 sorry!)

Fact #1 - Stolas is still coming to terms with the consequences of his actions. He spends the whole episode finding out just how much his life has changed. Learning how to navigate groceries, and laundry, and meals, and having a job, and worrying about money.

Mid-episode, he has a breakdown where he truly questions if everything he gave up was worth it just for a fantasy. At this point in the episode, he still hasn't realised how much he means to Blitz. As far as he's concerned, he did all of this for someone who doesn't reciprocate his feelings. By the end of the episode, though, his feelings have settled enough for him to express what he has known to be true all along: that saving Blitz was the right thing to do.

What Stolas regrets isn't saving Blitz's life, or even loving Blitz in the first place.

What he regrets are the choices he made that led them to this. He feels guilty for selfishly (or, rather, naively) playing out his fantasies. He's the one who established the deal, who let Blitz illegally use the book for many months, who wasn't always sensible about how he expressed his love for Blitz publicly and despite being married, and who allowed himself to ignore the reality of his situation so he could live in his own, personal romcom—all of which ultimately led to the events of Mastermind and the loss of Via.

And all the guilt and regret he's grappling with (however justified it might be) is exacerbated by fact #2, which is:

Fact #2 - Stolas is off his medication. He's been off it for a month now. Symptoms of depression (especially untreated depression) include mood swings, irritability, self-hatred and low self-esteem, passive/active suicidal ideation, pessimism and hopelessness about the future, catastrophising, black-and-white thinking, and anhedonia (inability to feel pleasure and to find joy in things—and people—who used to bring you it). All symptoms Stolas exhibits throughout this episode.

So, even if he shows a lack of emotion toward Blitz at times, or irritation to seemingly minor things like low doors or "secretating" or Karen's behaviour, even if he acts regretful and angry and desolate... a lot of these emotions and behaviours are a result of his depression, and not of actually hating the life he chose.

Fact #3 - Stolas loves Blitz. He always has, and always will. I could point at a thousand different moments in the show when Stolas' love for Blitz has transpired, but I'm going to leave it at his line from Mastermind: "I would rather be dead than live life without you by my side."

Even after everything they've gone through, even now that he's taken Blitz off his pedestal and can acknowledge that Blitz can be a fucking idiot... Stolas simply does not want to live a life without Blitz. It has always been Blitz. It will always be Blitz.

Stolas loves Blitz.

Fact #4 - Stolas kissed Blitz. Before he truly hits rock bottom as a result of Octavia cutting him out, Stolas is so ecstatic that Blitz cares, that Blitz was willing to go to such lengths to save his life, that he can't hold back the need to kiss Blitz mid-air. Suddenly, none of his earlier frustration matters. Nothing matters expect for how elated he is that Blitz loves him back. So he smiles and he pulls Blitz into a kiss because he can't bear not to kiss Blitz for a moment longer.

Look at this man. Look at how happy he is. Because it's always been Blitz, and maybe it was a fantasy for a long time, but it doesn't have to be anymore. Maybe this can be real now. He's so happy he (and I) could cry.

Fact #5 - Stolas didn't deny loving Blitz. When Via said "You don't love me, you love him," the script very purposefully did not have Stolas go "no, no, Via, that's not true—" or say anything else that might make Blitz doubt, even for a moment, that Stolas loves him. Because that much is true. He does love Blitz. He just also loves Via. Which brings me to:

Fact #6 - Blitz knows Stolas loves him. At no point throughout the episode does Blitz doubt, even for a second, that Stolas loves him. And we know this because Blitz's walls remain down at all times. If Blitz doubted he was loved, if he had even the slightest of reservations, those walls would come crawling back up whether he wanted them to or not. It's what he's been trained and conditioned to do—it's how he's kept his heart safe ever since the accident.

But now, he knows his heart is safe with Stolas. He believes it enough to not depend on his walls to feel at ease. He believes it enough to let himself take care of Stolas and be soft with Stolas without the slightest trace of hesitation.

Look at Blitz's face. This is the face of a man who knows that even if Stolas isn't okay right now, things will get better. And when they do, they'll both still be in love with each other. This is the face of a man who can't wait for something beautiful to flourish between them, but who is in no rush to get there. He knows the road ahead is hard and painful, but he has faith in Stolas. In both of them.

Fact #6 - Stolas was happy to share a private, romantic dance with Blitz. Despite everything going through his mind, he found comfort and happiness in dancing with Blitz; in getting to have this little moment with him.

He found relief in the fact that Blitz stayed with him this time, even after Stolas told him, once again, that he didn't have to stay.

His reaction to Blitz initiating a dance between them is genuine surprise, immediately followed by an enamoured little smile at the mere notion that he gets to have this, now.

And, as they dance, he keeps smiling and leaning into Blitz, going as far as to manage a deep, heartfelt laugh at Blitz's words. This, for an unmedicated, depressed person going through one of the worst days of his life, is huge in itself. It shows that, even in the worst of times, he finds undeniable comfort and happiness in Blitz.

And, after their dance, Stolas looks at Blitz with a sobriety and soft sort of realisation that shows he's finally coming to terms with the fact that this is real. After everything he's lost, after all the fantasies he hoped for for so long and believed he'd never have, he finally gets to have this.

Despite the pain he's going through, Stolas looks at Blitz and sees the man he loves.

Notice how Blitz's eyes trail down to Stolas' mouth. And Stolas realises. And doesn't move away. Waiting, expectantly, for Blitz's next move, fully expecting it to be a kiss.

But then Blitz hugs him instead, and Stolas doesn't hug back.

And it's not because he doesn't want to be hugged by Blitz. It's not because his feelings for Blitz have changed, or dimmed, or disappeared. It's not because he regrets loving Blitz, or saving him. It's not because he doesn't want to have a close, healthy, loving romantic relationship with Blitz.

It's because of facts #1 (he's grappling with so much guilt and coming to terms with the consequences of his actions) and #2 (he's experiencing symptoms of unmedicated depression). And, above all, it's because of fact #7, which is...

Fact #7 - Stolas doesn't know how to be loved. Stolas has never had support. He has never had a shoulder to cry on, or someone to hold him when he needed it. When he's feeling vulnerable and broken, he defaults to hugging himself as a way to self-soothe, because that's the only comfort he's ever known.

And because he's never known comfort from others—because it was never allowed or safe for him to need or ask for comfort from others—all Stolas knows to do with his vulnerability is hide it. So much so that, the two times we see him begin to break down in front of Blitz before this episode, he either portals Blitz away or masks his tears and pain immediately. Even as he drunkenly rambles about wanting to be held, he still makes sure not to appear like he actually needs a hug.

So when he finds himself being held by Blitz in a warm, comforting hug, Stolas doesn't know how to respond. Because he's never had this. He's never had an opportunity to learn how to exist in someone's comforting embrace, how to interact with this kind of physical contact. He still has to learn how to feel safe between arms that aren't his own.

Simply put, Stolas still doesn't know how to hold Blitz back.

That doesn't mean Stolas doesn't want or need physical comfort. He needs it desperately—everyone does. But wanting something and knowing how to actually have it are two very different things, and Blitz knows that better than anyone, because he's wanted Stolas for a very long time, but didn't, until very recently, know how to feel safe accepting Stolas' love.

And that's why Blitz is completely understanding of the fact that all Stolas can do, all Stolas has the ability to do, is stand there and let himself be held, and let his emotions go through him. In, and out, with every breath, with every second. And get slowly acquainted with what being comforted by the person he loves feels like.

Thirty-something years of trauma can't be undone in a single hug, or a single conversation, and it's going to take time for Stolas to learn how to be present while in Blitz's arms, and how to return that emotional closeness.

But Blitz has faith in him. Blitz is willing to be patient and soft with him while he gets better. Blitz is ready to meet Stolas where he's at, because he knows, beyond a trace of doubt, that they love one another, and they're going to be okay. Even if Stolas doesn't know it yet—even if we, the audience don't know it yet—Blitz knows.

And that's just going to have to be enough for now.

And because this post got completely away from me, I shall conclude by quoting their song, because it summarises their story better than I ever could:

Truer love is hard to find. ❤️

#helluva boss sinsmas #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #stolitz #Long post #helluva boss meta #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss blitz #blitz helluva boss #stolas helluva boss #stolas goetia #Blitzo #image description in alt

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jeannyjaykaydeh · 2 days ago

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Merry Sinsmas

Alastor x Reader

Just a little thought I'd like to share with you because I’m in the Christmas mood.

I hope you enjoy reading it and if you celebrate Christmas: I wish you a Merry Christmas. And if you don't: I hope you have a great few days anyway. :)

And to all of you: Merry Sinsmas. :D

Warning: I hope you don't mind that this short story briefly mentions that you are from Germany. If you can't identify with this, just see this sentence as a joke to wriggle out of a situation.

—————————————————————————

You're standing in the hotel lobby with a clipboard in your hand, working through a to-do list. You are in the middle of your Christmas preparations. Charlie and Vaggie are busy decorating the big tree in the centre of the lobby next to the stairs, Niffty is cleaning and judging by her crazy laugh, she's in a very Christmassy mood.

Lucifer is tending to the fairy lights, Husk is making punch for everyone and Angel and Cherri Bomb are getting the sound system ready.

As you stare at your clipboard, thinking about what you could do next, you notice out of the corner of your eye a shadow rise from the floor and stand next to you.

You don't even have to lift your eyes to realise that it's Alastor, standing so close to you that his large body is pressed against you.

You hear a snap of fingers, but you skilfully ignore it.

You're too busy dealing with the fact that the radio demon is invading your comfort zone - as he so often does.

It doesn't take long before he clears his throat meaningfully, inviting you to give him your attention.

So you raise your eyes and suppress your annoyed expression as best you can.

You look at him expectantly. What does he want?

He looks down at you with a mischievous smile. Then he takes a quick look at the ceiling before his eyes wander back to you.

You look up and see a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, obviously conjured up by him.

You sigh slightly.

So he wants to be kissed.

Alastor is really trying everything he can to get to you. You realise that he's been trying to make advances to you for months and win your heart with small - and also very large - gestures.

What you keep to yourself the whole time: He won your heart a long time ago. But you don't want to admit it.

Yes, you fancy Alastor - oh, you're so in love with him!

But your fear of commitment and the fact that he's one of the most dangerous demons here in hell stop you from getting involved with him.

Much to the displeasure of your friends, because the tension between Alastor and you has left its mark on them too and now they really want to see you two as a couple.

"Hahaaaa, there's a little green branch hanging right above us. What funny coincidences there are, aren't there, my dear?" he says euphorically in his radio filter voice.

"Real coincidences, yes," you reply sarcastically and leave it at that. At least that's what you try to do, but there's no way Alastor will let you get away with it.

He steps closer to you - it's hard to believe that's still possible - leans forward slightly and says: "You know I'm a man of tradition. In my day, we followed every custom without even batting an eyelid. It would be a shame for me and my inner well-being if you didn't appreciate my traditions, sweetheart."

You give him a wry, cheeky grin. Then you turn away from him and say: "Well, it's just a shame that I'm from Germany and this mistletoe tradition isn't practised there."

You move away from him and leave him standing there in his indignant static noise.

"OH NO, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Angel suddenly shouts across the lobby. He jumps up from his chair and stomps angrily towards you, grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you back on your heels under the mistletoe, where he sets you down right in front of the radio demon.

He grumbles: "We're not in fucking Germany here, we're in hell! And here ya don't just kiss under the mistletoe, here ya even fuck when ye're standin' under it! So do yerself and us a favour and respect our traditions! Ya kiss that creepy man now, understand?"

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bkgexe · 22 hours ago

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if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bkg #fics #heehee idk even.... what this is. back on my angst bullshit. but it was fun to write!!!!#would love to be on here more often and write more little things like this would love if life wasn't like incredibly busy all the time

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tic-loud-tic-proud · 2 days ago

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I don't talk about it often on my blog but I have a type of muscular dystrophy called Facioscapulohumeral muscular dystrophy type 1 (formerly known as Landouzy-Dejerine Disease), a genetic/chromosomal disorder that causes degenerative muscle wasting and loss as well as chronic muscle pain. It's one of the more common types of muscular dystrophy (MD) but is still rare, only affecting about 4 in 100,000 individuals, about 1 million people worldwide. FSHD1 is caused by a D4Z4 contraction on your chromosomes, which causes your body to produce too much of the DUX4 protein which is toxic to muscle cells. So the muscle cells in your body can't regenerate properly and end up being slowly replaced by fat cells and connective tissue. FSHD type 2 is more complicated and what causes it is unknown. There is no treatment or cure for either type of FSHD.

FSHD causes muscle weakness that starts in your upper body, particularly the face (facio) shoulders (scapulo) and upper arms (humeral). Most people have onset around age 15-30, but some are born with symptoms (infantile FSHD) and some people have all the genetic/chromosomal traits that would cause FSHD but never develop symptoms. The muscle weakness is almost always asymmetrical with the right side of the body being affected more. In addition to upper body weakness it's also super common for people with FSHD to have "potbellies" due to weak or absent abdominal muscles, have hip weakness and pain, and to have ankle/foot issues due to weakness in the peroneal muscles. 70% of us also have chronic pain. Around 20% of people with FSHD need a wheelchair for mobility. FSHD is not terminal like many other types of muscular dystrophy but some people with severe symptoms may have a shorter lifespan.

There's not as much research on this but people with FSHD also have abnormalities in our eyes and are more likely to have hearing loss. Both my grandmother and my uncle who have FSHD are Deaf or Hard of Hearing and have mild or significant vision loss. People with FSHD tend to have similar facial features and look alike because of how muscle loss affects our facial structure.

I personally don't remember when my FSHD symptoms started but I know it was when I was young. FSHD runs very strongly in my family and my mom noticed my shoulder blades, especially my left shoulder blade, would "wing out". I used to play violin but as my FSHD progressed I couldn't hold the violin or play it properly anymore and had to stop (I tried cello for a hot minute but that was even worse). The nail on the coffin was when I was going through blood tests during the diagnostic process for my Tourette's syndrome and they showed levels of creatinine kinase (a type of protein released when you're dealing with muscle damage or loss) that were 3x the normal amount.

I'm a young adult so my FSHD symptoms haven't progressed far enough to be debilitating yet. But they're still noticeable. I can't reach my arms up high enough to reach certain things (but I'm very tall so that isn't usually an issue for me like it is for shorter people with FSHD). I can't close my eyes all the way when I sleep. I used to play volleyball, but had to stop because of arm weakness. I was teased in middle school for "walking like a stripper" because my hips would swing so far when I walked. I dealt with body image issues (and still do) because of my skinny arms (that I jokingly refer to as cigarette arms because of their shape) and potbelly. I have muscle weakness in my lower legs that leads to me tripping and falling more often, and I get ankle injuries all the time. I also deal with chronic muscle pain in my upper arms and face.

I'm somewhat involved in my local FSHD community, even though it's rare enough that there's only a couple people in it that aren't directly related to me lol. I participated in a big Walk & Roll fundraiser for FSHD and my fundraising team was able to raise more than $2,000 for research, a feat I'm still super proud of, and I was also featured on the @/facesoffshd Instagram account a few years back (I won't link either of those for privacy reasons). There's not really a strong FSHD community online besides on Facebook because most people don't know they're affected by it until they're in their 30s/40s, and that demographic is most likely to use Facebook over other social media. I've tried a couple times to build up a stronger FSHD community here on Tumblr especially when I was younger but it's not taken off.

The awareness ribbon colour for FSHD is orange, and our main "symbol" is an orange slice held over the mouth, representing people who lose the ability to smile because of FSHD. The organization for FSHD in the USA is the FSH Society.

Here's some famous people with FSHD!

[image: a man with a buzz cut and short stubble wearing a gray v-neck t shirt.]

Chip Wilson, founder of Lululemon athletic wear.

[image: a woman with shoulder-length brown hair wearing an off-the-shoulder floral blouse.]

Lexi Pappas, filmmaker.

[image: a woman with long brown hair and glasses sitting in a power wheelchair and wearing a yellow dress with a sunshine pattern.]

Marisa Spain, youtuber and advocate for disability accessibility in outdoor spaces.

[image: a man with short brown hair and a beard playing a mandolin]

Joshua Bergmann, bluegrass singer-songwriter and mandolinist. It's not visible in this photo, but he uses a specially-made arm brace to hold his arms in the correct position to play mandolin.

it makes me sad that the same few conditions consume disability discussions. the disability community is so diverse and I know there are other people out there who have diverse experiences. I think the community needs to do a better job of lifting up the voices of people with rare conditions (or even just conditions that aren't spoken about) I want to hear from people who have different experiences from mine. people with rare diseases often have very unique experiences and it's really shameful that we don't get to hear those voices very often.

anyways, if you have a rare disease (hEDS is not rare) or a condition that isn't talked about often feel free to promote your blog or share something on this post.

#muscular dystrophy #fshd #fshmd #my fshd is the chronic illness i refer to in my bio and carrd btw #and massive shoutout to the people on the bluegrass reddit for telling me about joshua bergmann

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eggrollforyou · 1 day ago

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Under The Mistletoe

Zoro x F!reader

WC: 1405

CW: nothing but fluff here!

A/N: with all the adorable holiday themed fics being posted, I couldn't resist posting a sweet fic stealing a kiss from my favorite swordsman. As usual, barely proofread 😅. Enjooooyyy!!!! Happy holidays everyone! 💚

The crew was buzzing around the Sunny, finishing up last minute decorating, wrapping gifts, and basking in the holiday cheer. Luffy wanted to go to a Winter island to celebrate Christmas, “Aw, c'mon Nami! You can't have Christmas without SNOOOOW,” he yelled as Nami massaged her temples, trying to deal with the headache of navigating to an island in the Grand Line that had a winter climate in such a short amount of time.

Nami being Nami though, she pulled it off. The Sunny was anchored off the coast of an island blanketed in snow. It was always amazing to you the diversity of islands on the Grand Line. How could you be on a tropical island one day and literally sailing for 2 days, you'd end up in a Winter wonderland like this; snowy peaks, evergreens 20 feet high, and practically 4 feet of snow everywhere.

When you joined the crew, everyone was welcoming and made you feel right at home. But Zoro, it took him a while to warm up, if you could call it that at the time. What seemed as bristled annoyance, then shifted to indifference, and that slowly morphed into a quiet friendship. You'd spent hours talking his ear off about anything and everything as he polished his swords, worked out, tried to nap. At first he was annoyed that you never seemed to leave him alone but he soon found himself missing your company if your attention was focused elsewhere. So, slowly he started inviting you to join him, “I'm going to sharpen my swords, you comin’?” with a grunt. Over time, you began to wiggle your way into his heart but he didn't know how to move forward with that. He was unsure how you felt about him. Despite how much time you spent together, he noticed he got no special treatment from you. You were just as silly and talkative with the rest of the crew. He had a goal in mind though, he couldn't afford to be distracted. He needed to help Luffy become the King of the Pirates and he needed to become the world's greatest swordsman, was there place for love in that?

Little did he know that you immediately wanted to get to know Zoro more. Of all the crew, he was the toughest one to crack. You thought trying to spend time with him he'd eventually open up. At first, you had reservations, surely you were annoying him. But you continued being your unabashed, silly self. As time wore on, he finally let his guard down and seemed to enjoy your company. Your stomach would fill with butterflies when he started asking for you to join him. You both eventually found a rhythm and were practically inseparable. Zoro made it a point to teach you meditation though. “Woman, you talk too much. C’mon, we're gonna meditate.”

And from there, your friendship grew. His affection for you much more quietly than your own. While you never thought you were trying to make your friendship anything more than it was, the rest of the crew clearly saw it. Robin and Nami were always grilling you about it, asking if you were ever going to make a move. But you found comfort in the routine you both had built and didn't want to rock the boat. You had family with this crew and feared if your affections weren't reciprocated, it would only complicate things. So you just left it be.

Robin and Nami came back from a little shopping excursion in the small village by the coast. You, Zoro, Luffy, and Usopp wrapped up decorating and decided to extend some decorations down off the coast, setting up Christmas lights around a makeshift fire pit. Taking a break you decided to play in the snow with Usopp and Luffy. Pelting each other with snowballs, making snowmen, and snow angels while Zoro gathered firewood close by. “Hey Nami, Robin! Get a nice haul?” you laughed as you sat up next to Usopp from making your most recent snow angels. Nami walked by excitedly carrying two armfuls of bags as Robin smiled warmly at you, carrying a much more reasonable amount of stuff. “Oh my, it was quite fun. I managed to grab a couple last minute decorations as well,” Robin replied as she held up a smaller bag. Unbeknownst to you, Nami gave a glance to Zoro and tilted her head to Robin, raising an eyebrow and grinning widely. Zoro stood up straight, staring tight-lipped in return. What the hell has that witch done? He thought to himself. He begrudgingly asked for Nami’s help in finding a gift for you, not wanting to go further into debt with her, he agreed to give her free reign to pick it if it wasn't going to add to his debt. But he has no idea what she was planning. By the way she looked at him, he realized he may have made a mistake. As they walked past, Robin gave him a warm smile though it wasn't as devious as Nami’s, as she hinted that the small bag contained whatever the source of his current stress. He exhaled a clipped breath he didn't realize he was holding, the evidence of it fogging in front of him, and saw you getting tackled into a snow drift by Luffy, both of you disappearing into the snow. Your combined laughter and shrieking shaking him out of his nerves and into the present. “Oi! Be careful! I don't want to carry anyone into the infirmary because of your insanity!” he sighed.

Much to your dismay, Zoro- ever observant- noticed that chill from playing in the snow finally settling in. He ushered the rest of you back toward the ship. As Usopp and Luffy raced to the ship shouting for a spiked warm drink to Sanji, you took your usual spot next to Zoro. He glanced down at you, seeing your lashes wet from playing in the snow, nose and cheeks bright red from the cold, and his heart swelled as you once again talked his ear off. This time about how you've never seen this much snow.

At that moment he wondered what Nami picked up for him to give to you. As you both walked into the ship, you made your way to the galley. It was warm and bright with Christmas lights strung everywhere. Everyone was sitting down with a warm mug of hot cocoa or coffee that Sanji lovingly prepared. As you stopped to marvel at how wonderful the room looked, Zoro looked at Robin and Nami. They glanced quickly up at the ceiling above you both and their eyes darted back down to you. Zoro looked up and suddenly, his confidence shattered, falling into the pit opening up in his stomach. That…fucking…witch. She didn't?! And suddenly he realized what she had done. There was a bundle of Mistletoe hanging from the ceiling right above you. Your eyes made their way around the room and you noticed Zoro staring up, his eyes wide in surprise and you shifted your gaze to look where he was looking. “Hey! It's missile-toads,” you laughed. Your silliness suddenly broke Zoro from his trance, his body feeling hot, but suddenly his anxiety gone at your silliness that he'd grown to love.

“What did you just say?” Zoro questioned, eyebrow raised as he looks at you. Your cheeks dusted pink, nose still slightly red from the cold, “I SAID,” you giggle, unable to contain it any longer, “look, there's missile toads.” He pulls back, “That's what I thought you said,” as he chuckles. Zoro's gaze softens as he smiles at you, a warm grin that he only reserves for you. “You know what they say about getting caught under the mistletoe…” he says as he pulls you to him, suddenly mustering the courage to act on how he feels, no longer shy or willing to fight it. Your eyes widen, sparkling under the Christmas lights.

Is he going to…?

Before you can finish your thought, he presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It's gentle and surprisingly loving. Full of months of unspoken feelings and you melt. “Merry Christmas, Zoro,” you beam. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#one piece #one piece fluff #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro #zoro fluff #zoro op

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kelloggsenthusiast · 2 days ago

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if you're reading this - luigi mangione x reader

just want to let you all know that all the accusations made against this and are just that- accusations

innocent until proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt

(not beta read)

he had been caught.

that's all you had been seeing all day. his pictures all over social media and the news, some demonising him and calling him a terrorist, others calling him a hero. you were just confused. three weeks ago, he just up and left your shared apartment without so much as an explanation. you wished you knew better but you couldn't explain it. you loved him and you thought he lived you right back. he was so sweet and doting and attentive to you, even if he hadn't been the same since the accident.

the accident... it had dimmed his light significantly. he couldn't hike or climb or do the things he once loved, being too financially and physically incapacitated to do it, and that's when you noticed his shift. you'd been seeing each other for some years, even talking about the idea of marriage before the accident happened. after it, though, it's like a switch flipped. he came to stay with you while he was covering his medical bills and you could see up close how it changed him. he became distant from you and obsessed with a lot of socialist literature, reading while he wasn't working. his parents and family called you several times because he had effectively stopped speaking to anyone since then. he was different and it was difficult for you to watch what had become of him now that...

you were on your way home from a long day at work, only made longer by seeing your boyfriends face everywhere. you had to turn off the radio because of all the news reports every few seconds. you couldn't believe it, but at the same time, you could. he had an implicitly calloused way of handling things that you'd always said would land him in prison. little did you know, it was literally landing him in prison. the health care system, after all, killed your childhood best friend and left him disabled and in debt. he was the one who just went to go and make his grievances known.

upon your arrival at your apartment, you headed straight for his desk and flipped through all the papers and manuscripts, reading through his detailed notes and excerpts from books and studies. then you saw it. a letter, starting with the words: if you're reading this, they got me. and I'm sorry.

your heart lurched when you saw those words and you didn't even realise that tears were running down your face. you continued reading thr note in his familiar messy handwriting, sharp and thin lettering you recognised as his.

I'm so sorry. I know I've been abandoning you and our relationship. I've been abandoning everyone. but I can't just deal with this pain any longer, and I can't bear to see you suffer because of something neither of us could have predicted. I've cleared the medical debts and paid for the apartment for the next three months. you're free now. and I want you to use that freedom to find happiness beyond me. I love you. but I know I won't be there for you much from jail. you've always been headstrong and intelligent, so I hope you'll understand why I chose to do what I did. I'm truly, truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me. and more importantly, I hope you can find happiness beyond me. I love you.

a short something for all of you. prayers for all of you in the states, I never knew it was this bad. if ceo's were popped as often as kids in school, gun control would be a thing. once again, free luigi. he didn't do anything wrong. - saïe

#luigi mangione x reader #angst #if youre reading this #free luigi #free my shayla #free my baby daddy #free my man #he aint do nothing

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wilhelminyard · 3 days ago

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one thing about the foxes is they are brutally honest. they will tell you exactly how they feel about you and they'll insult you to your face without holding back like they could not care less about hurting people's feelings and let me show you why with these quotes from the first book (yes this will be a three parts post) :

WYMACK :

"do you have any idea how much I hate coming home and finding you in my apartment?"

"that's not fair" "life isn't fair tweedle-dumb. get over it."

"hemmick, get over here and be useful for once in your mangy life"

"things aren't anything but awkward when andrew and nicky are around"

"you looked busy" "I'm always busy. that's never stopped you pricks from interrupting me before"

"you're a sopping mess. get out of my sight and clean up before I wring your neck."

"are you done wasting my oxygen yet?"

NEIL :

"what the hell did you call me?" "I called you a deadweight hasbeen"

"mother, may I?" "your mother's dead. I don't think she cares what you do"

"did no one tell you I hate surprises?" "what makes you think I care?"

"your attitude makes it hard for anyone to care about you"

"you're a team of pathetic bullies"

"your team's ranked first? congratulations and big deal"

ANDREW :

"congratulations are in order, I suppose. since I have none to give I will tell the others to respond appropriately"

"bruises you think, or scars? I think scars, too. can't be bruises if his parents aren't around to beat him, right?"

"you're not very bright. typical of a jock."

KEVIN :

"I'm not good enough to play on the same court as a champion" "true, but irrelevant"

"why are you here?" "I wanted to practice" "as if it will help you any"

"you worry about your incompetence. I'll worry about andrew"

"morning sunshine" "fuck you" "glad to see you're still a morning person" "fuck you too"

"I will wash my hands of you on the court and you can struggle your way through mediocrity alone"

"kevin, the man is dead. like permanently" "it's not a major loss" (not to his face but still SAVAGE)

MATT :

"didn't miss you at all"

"do you even remember how to smile?"

"when you say things like that it makes me think you don't trust us" "no one trusts you"

NICKY :

"the death threats were creative though. maybe this time they'll follow through and actually kill one of us. let's vote. I nominate seth"

AARON :

"you never have anything useful to say"

ALLISON :

"looks like you've managed to completely embarass yourself in both languages"

"you aren't funny. shut up."

"we didn't trust you to keep your mouth shut"

SETH :

"he's short. he can't play, and he looks like he has an attitude problem"

"we talked all kinds of shit about you after you booked it"

"are you stupid?"

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #david wymack #kevin day #matt boyd #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #aaron minyard #allison reynolds #renee walker #seth gordon #the foxhole court #the foxes #psu foxes

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fromchaostocosmos · 3 hours ago

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I said this before and I'll say it here: Seeing natural Jewish hair on screen in positive manner is a massive deal. Like I can't freaking out about. In Clark Kent mode his hair is what a lot Jew's natural hair looks like.

When our natural hair is on screen it is always in a mocking manner or on evil characters. We do not get neutral let alone positive representation for natural ethnic Jewish hair.

So seeing it like the first time is a huge deal. This is massive for us. Those curls that Clark has going on that is just like I want to cry every time I see it.

I'm really hope that somehow someone lets David Corenswet know just him being Superman means to Jews all over the world and just how much him showing natural Jewish hair means to us too.

I want him to know that the his people are rooting for him.

What’s the big deal with a Jewish man being cast as Superman? I’ll tell you!

The character was created by two Jewish men, which isn’t an uncommon origin for most classic characters. Comic books were seen as a lesser art form compared to other jobs in the arts, so the majority of creators at the time were Jewish. The creators of Superman wanted to go in to advertising initially, but struggled to find jobs in the industry (a post I’ve made about this here).

It’s incredibly important context that Superman was created by two Jewish men during World War II. There were many Americans who were ambivalent at best and actively supportive at worst of the Nazi party. Antisemitism was massively present in America at the time.

Superman is a positive Jewish symbol. Kal-El is a name derived from Hebrew. His story is easily read as a Moses allegory. Jewish folklore is written all over his origins— the strength of Samson and the protection of the Golem (specifically as portrayed in the Jewish made film The Golem according to one of his creators). If you think of his creators his story becomes that much richer. He feels the need to change his name to fit in, which was incredibly common for Jewish authors in the comic industry. He struggles with being partially assimilated, between two identities that can feel conflicting. His story is a reflection of the Jewish experience.

Comic books are Jewish-American art. They are fundamentally a reflection of our culture and history. Movie adaptations have a habit of never casting Jewish actors or erasing Jewish characters completely. Having a Jewish actor get to step in to the role of one of the most recognizable and iconic Jewish creations is incredibly precious to many (including me).

#jumblr #superman #david corenswet

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woozinhos · 2 days ago

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hii, can I request wonwoo playing video games all day and kind of forgetting about you in the process, so you take matters into your own hands and tease him till he gives up.

I love your fics so much btw 🤭

Ahh thank you so much for the support I really love doing these hehe enjoy!!

Wonwoo has been holed up in his room all day, completely engrossed in a video game. He's been so focused on it that he hasn't even noticed your attempts to get his attention. You've tried everything - knocking on the door, calling his name, and even sending him messages - but he's still glued to his screen, oblivious to the world around him.

Frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands and tease him into giving you some attention. You walk into Wonwoo's room and start cleaning up the messy space, but instead of doing it fully clothed, you decide to gradually lose articles of clothing as you work.

You start with your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it onto a nearby chair. Then, you remove your pants, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. As you continue to clean, you can't help but notice that Wonwoo is still completely engrossed in his game, his eyes fixed on the screen and not even sparing you a glance.

You continue to clean the room, slowly revealing more and more of your skin. You bend over, giving Wonwoo a clear view of your body as you pick up a few stray items from the floor. Despite your efforts, he still doesn't seem to notice. He's so absorbed in his game that he doesn't even notice your presence in the room. Frustrated, you decide to take it up a notch and walk over to him, standing right in front of him and blocking his view of the screen.

You stand directly in front of Wonwoo, your body now completely bare except for the lingerie you're wearing. You place your hands on your hips and strike a seductive pose, hoping to finally catch his attention. Wonwoo looks up from his game for the first time, his eyes widening as he takes in your appearance.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks, his voice laced with surprise and a hint of desire.

You smirk and reply, "You could have had this, but you were too focused on your game. Now you get nothing."

Wonwoo looks at you, his expression a mix of frustration and lust. He knows he's missed out on something amazing, but he's also aware that he's the one who caused it.

"Come on, baby," he pleads, his voice low and desperate. "Don't be like that. I'm sorry, okay?"

You give him a cold smile and turn to leave the room, your hips swaying with every step.

Wonwoo reaches out to grab your arm, but you pull away from him.

"Nope," you say firmly, not looking back. "You had your chance. Now you can deal with the consequences."

You exit the room, leaving Wonwoo alone with his game and a hard-on that he can't ignore. Wonwoo watches you leave, his jaw clenched in frustration. He's now even more frustrated than he was before, both because of the game and because of your teasing.

He tries to focus on the game again, but his mind keeps wandering back to the sight of you standing there in nothing but lingerie. He can still picture the way your body looked, the way your skin glowed in the light, and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. He lets out a groan, knowing that he's completely screwed himself over.

Wonwoo tosses his controller onto the bed, no longer able to focus on the game. He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He can feel his arousal growing stronger by the minute, the image of you burned into his mind. He tries to will it away, but it's no use. He's too worked up now, too desperate for you.

He gets up from his chair and storms out of the room, determined to find you and make things right. Wonwoo searches the house, looking for any sign of you. He checks the living room, the kitchen, and even the bathroom, but you're nowhere to be found. Finally, he finds you in the bedroom, standing in front of the mirror and admiring yourself.

He stands in the doorway, watching you for a moment before clearing his throat to get your attention. You turn around and see Wonwoo standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with desire. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

"There you are," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

You smile slyly and ask, "Why were you looking for me?"

Wonwoo takes a step closer to you, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily.

"You know why," he growls, his voice laced with need. "I couldn't stand the thought of you being out there, looking like that and not letting me touch you."

"Oh, so now you want to touch me?" you ask, your voice teasing. "After you completely ignored me all day?"

Wonwoo's eyes flash with irritation at your words, but he can't deny the truth in them.

"I said I was sorry," he says, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to ignore you. I was just... caught up in the game."

"You can't have me," you repeat, your tone firm. "Not after the way you treated me."

Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"Please, baby," he begs, his voice pleading. "Don't be like this. I'll do anything to make it up to you, just please let me touch you."

Wonwoo takes another step closer to you, his body now just inches away from yours.

"I need you," he says, his voice low and desperate. "I need to feel your skin against mine, I need to taste you, I need to be inside you."

He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Wonwoo's eyes darken with frustration as you continue to ignore him, his body aching with need. He tries to grab your hips and pull you closer, but you step back, denying him the contact he so desperately craves.

"Damn it, stop teasing me," he growls, his patience wearing thin.

Wonwoo's jaw clenches as he watches you continue to deny him, his frustration turning into anger. He grabs your wrists and pins them against the wall, trapping you between his body and the hard surface.

"I said stop teasing me," he repeats, his voice rough with need. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?"

"Good," you say, a sly smile on your face. "Maybe then you'll learn your lesson about ignoring me."

Wonwoo growls in frustration, his grip on your wrists tightening.

"You're being such a brat right now," he says, his eyes burning with desire. "But I have to admit, it's kind of hot."

He leans in close, his lips hovering just inches away from your ear.

"I can't decide whether I want to punish you or reward you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“Get on the bed and strip* You say.

Wonwoo's eyes widen at your command, but he quickly obeys. He releases your wrists and steps back, a smirk on his face.

"As you wish," he says, his voice dripping with amusement.

He walks over to the bed and sits down, looking up at you with a mix of anticipation and excitement.

"I'm waiting," he says, his hands already moving to undo his shirt.

Wonwoo slowly unbuttons his shirt, his eyes never leaving yours.

He shrugs off the garment, revealing his toned chest and abs. He then moves on to his pants, undoing the button and pulling them down along with his boxers. He lies back on the bed, completely naked and waiting for your next move. You take a moment to admire his body, your eyes roaming over every inch of him.

"Good boy," you say, your voice low and sultry. "Now stay there and don't move."

Wonwoo grins up at you, his hands gripping the sheets as he tries to resist the urge to touch you.

"I'll stay here," he says, his voice rough with desire. "But I can't promise I won't lose control if you keep looking at me like that."

You walk over to the bed and climb on top of him, straddling his waist. Wonwoo lets out a low groan as you settle on top of him, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips.

"You're driving me crazy," he repeats, his fingers digging into your skin. "You have no idea how badly I want to touch you right now."

You lean down and press a kiss to his neck, your lips trailing down to his collarbone. Wonwoo lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he relishes the sensation of your touch.

"Please," he whispers, his voice desperate. "Please let me touch you, baby. I need to feel your skin under my hands."

Wonwoo's breath hitches as you begin to suck on his neck, his hips bucking up involuntarily. He lets out a low moan, his hands moving to grip your hair as he tries to hold himself together.

"God, that feels good," he groans, his body trembling with need. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

Wonwoo's eyes widen as you move down his body, his anticipation growing with each passing second. He props himself up on his elbows, watching you intently as you get closer to his aching cock.

"Please," he begs again, his voice strained. "Please, I need your mouth on me."

Wonwoo lets out a loud moan as you wrap your lips around his cock, his head falling back against the pillows. His hands tangle in your hair, guiding you up and down his length as he struggles to keep his composure.

"Fuck," he groans, his body shaking with pleasure. "Your mouth feels so good, baby. Don't stop."

Wonwoo's hips buck up into your mouth, his body desperate for more. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you work his cock.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with desire. "You look so beautiful like this, with your lips wrapped around me."

Wonwoo's breathing becomes ragged as he gets closer to his release, his grip on your hair tightening.

"I'm not going to last much longer," he warns, his voice strained. "You're going to make me come, baby."

Wonwoo's body tenses as he feels his orgasm building, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to hold on for just a little longer.

"I'm going to cum," he grits out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, don't stop."

Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan as you pull off of him just before he can cum, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"No, no, no," he pants, his eyes pleading with you. "Please, I was so close."

Wonwoo stares at you in disbelief as you walk out of the room, his cock still throbbing and aching for release. He lets out a low growl, frustration and need coursing through his veins.

"You're going to pay for that," he calls out after you, his voice laced with determination.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #svt smut #svt wonwoo #svt wonu #seventeen wonu #wonwoo smut #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonu #wonwoo

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velvetvexations · 11 hours ago

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I unfollowed PT after she pulled the "you can't be afab and a transfem" thing a while ago, which was already really hurtful, and I kinda assumed the current backlash was just her saying some radfem talking points off the cuff, I figured it was an escalation but nothing too bad, but I found the posts and wow, this is like actually vile. Like I don't even have words for it vile. I really enjoyed her music and her posts helped me deal with a lot of my own issues for the short time I followed her, seeing her go so far down the transradfem pipeline that she's essentially saying (paraphrased) "transmascs have so few problems that it's our right as transfems to silence them whenever they try to speak, they do not even deserve to have a voice and pretending they do is in of itself transmisogynistic" is just. I don't know, it's just sad? I really did look up to her, seeing her hit that low of a point due to what I can only assume is years of harassment(which I mean, TERFs/radfems exploit past abuse to recruit so not surprised the suffering transfems have faced can be used the same way) hurts in a way I can't even describe.

I know we need to keep fighting to make it out of this, to actually move us towards trans unity and liberation(honestly seeing the ammount of random people jumping on the "let's harass a transfem for fun" train with PT makes the angry butch in me want to crack skulls in her defense even if she says disgusting things about people like me), but right now I hate this fucking discourse about as much as I hated ace/aro discourse even though the fight there was also worth it in the end. And I know shit's always been rough in queer spaces and the work will never truly be done, but seeing the trans community falling apart so badly that people straight up don't think some trans people deserve a voice at all is killing me.

We all deserve so much better than this. We really do.

We do, anon. I love you and I'm here for you. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

#transandro phobia #discourse

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estellardreams · 2 days ago

Text

"You've changed..."

[Continuation of this mini fic]

(Prince MK belongs to @purble-turble. Genuinely I just came up with the name for this mini dark lotusnoodles spinoff AU so uh yeah)

It was... Rough, to say the least. Being forced to stay in a rather small cell while awaiting trial.

There was a small pulse on the wall before a ring of golden energy pushed back the wall to an open door.

Mk stood on the other side, still carrying Lán in his arms.

He paused, looking between everyone. He quietly shuffled back, trying to keep his distance.

Wukong got to his feet, putting his hand up to the ring.

"Hey... Kiddo. You okay?" he softly asked.

Lán looked between him and her baba, then back at him.

"Baba isn't normally allowed to speak to you all without papa's supervision."

"What?! Why?!" Mei exclaimed, getting to her feet.

Wukong frowned. "Nezha... He's the one who told her that, huh?"

Lán blinked, her once innocent expression shifting to a more darkened gaze. "Now I see why papa warned me about you all..."

She climbed out of MK's hold, walking up to the ring. Despite being a young nine year old, she oddly had an intimidating aura around her.

"You're all trying to endanger my baba again! He's safer here than with any of you because in trying to rescue him, you're just gonna let him get caught by that Demon King Red like all those other times!" she snapped.

Wukong froze. "Kid, it's not like that I promise!"

"Then how come baba is still here if you and the king aren't here?"

... Okay, he couldn't quite argue with her logic- No that's what Nezha wants.

Wukong shook his head, kneeling down to Lán. "This might be hard to explain, but I'm your baba's mentor. I want to protect him just as much as you and your papa do."

"Then why couldn't you?"

"I... I didn't see the signs. And I'm so sorry I put you in danger like that." his gaze shifted back up to MK.

MK's turned away, trying to not look at his friends and family.

It hurt too much.

It hurt that he couldn't talk to them.

Couldn't... Say anything.

He so badly wanted to tell them.

Just... Everything.

But of course, especially here, he couldn't say a word.

"... I'm sorry I can't talk to you all. Lán, let's go." MK took Lán's hand and began to lead her away.

"Baba? Where are we going?" she asked.

"How about you go play with your friends?"

"Okay! Race ya!" she immediately bolted.

MK waited until she turned the corner before rushing back to the cell ring.

"I don't have much time before I gotta get back to her, okay?" he whispered, a bit panicked.

"Yeah yeah yeah, it's fine. MK, how are you holding up?" Wukong asked.

"Ehh. Could be doing better. This stupid flower pin is keeping me from leaving this realm. And no, I can't take it out."

He growled. "Of course. It's a less threatening and harmful version of restraints that king red would've usually gone for but it still keeps you here."

"Yeah."

"Okay but what's the deal with the KID?!"

"Lán's... A kid Nezha made without my knowledge using his and my own DNA into a pearl stone."

"How long had it been for you? I'm so sorry we couldn't come sooner we really wanted to but the barriers between the Mortal Realm and Celestial Realm were really powerful."

"Ah, that explains it. And yes, it's been almost nine years for me."

"Shoot. Six months for us, nine years for him. Oh, what are we gonna do?" Mei began to slip into a panic.

"Mei, I promise it's gonna be okay. All of you just hang in there, okay? Maybe I can... Hopefully get you all a lighter sentence or something?"

"I... Don't think they'd take your word over the lotus prince." Tang said.

"Oh, right..." MK frowned, moving his hands back to his sides.

"What's with the weird outfit, anyway?" Mei asked.

"The... Gown? That's, uh... A choice. Honestly I just wanted something not traditional and extremely red that King Red would've put me in so..."

"That... Makes sense? I guess?"

MK flinched, hearing footsteps from the far end of the hall.

"I need to go, I'm so sorry. Bye!" he quickly shut off the ring and made a run for it, catching right back up to Lán.

Unfortunately MK wasn't allowed in the courtroom.

Nezha and Li Jing were there, making sure things went smoothly along the nine kings.

"And to read out our sentence..." the third king spoke, holding up the scroll.

"Sun Wukong, Long Xiaojiao, Sha Wujing, Zhu Bajie, and Tang Sazang have been deemed... Guilty. Over trespassing, attacking the heavenly army, and attempted kidnapping of the lotus prince's fiance. The Lotus Prince himself will bring about your worthy punishment."

Nezha got up from his seat, drifting down in front of the five calmly.

"Father. I wish to punish them with the Pagoda. To ensure they are never a threat to Heaven again." he said.

"Very well, then." Li Jing drifted down and activated the pagoda. The celestial guards keeping watch in the court forced the five to be sucked in before it shut off.

"It is done... All of you are dismissed." Nezha ordered.

"But what of your fiancé? Is he alright after such attacks?" Li Jing asked.

"Yes, of course. I've been keeping watch over him and he didn't get hurt."

"That's good."

"Now I'm gonna go back to him and our daughter! Goodbye, father."

"Goodbye, son."

Nezha flew off, finding MK watching over Lán, whom was playing with other children in the realm.

"Hey, MK." Nezha sat down next to him.

He quietly leaned onto him. "Don't worry about your friends. No harm came to them, I made sure of it."

"Oh thank the great sage, thank you..." MK breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned back to the lotus prince. "Can I see them?"

Nezha paused. How was he gonna tell him that he got them locked up in the Pagoda?

"... Not at the moment. I apologize."

"Oh... Then, um... Maybe soon?"

Soon... Nezha would have to find some way to show that they were all still there, somehow. But he could figure that out in time.

"Of course."

MK's gaze shifted back to the children playing around. Nezha leaned onto his shoulder, tugging at him in a hug.

"Love you, MK."

Mk didn't say anything. But deep in Nezha's heart, he was silently saying it right back to him.

And that made him feel so much better.

#Lotus Prince MK #Prince mk #Dark lotusnoodles #Lotusnoodles #Lmk #Lmk au #lego monkie kid #lmk fankid #digital art #🌸mine

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